Where He Goes, She Follows
by NukaGhoulQuantum
Summary: Charon dies and the Lone Wanderer is left in shambles. She snaps, Butch has to put her down. Cannibalism perk, the shakes set in. She finally trips the metaphorical wire. My first post, be gentle! Huge apology for the wonky formatting, isn't cooperating with my writing program, took out all my linebreaks!


A/N:

Hi! This is my first little drabble here on Fanfiction, and I'd just like to say thank you to anyone giving it a read. I've been thinking about what to do with my Lone Wanderer, and finally mustered up the confidence to post. I hope it's okay! Feel free to shoot me some constructive criticism, or even just chat. I'd love to make some new friends in the FO community!

She's fucking lost it. It coulda' been those damn shakes she's picked up- fuck, she can't even keep her hands steady anymore. Could've been the fact that Charon's finally kicked the goddamn bucket. Bastard took a hit for Madds, bled out before we could get him to a doc'. She was fine until it finally sunk in, hasn't been the same since.

So here we are, back where we started. Back to square one. It was the Muddy Rudder, shady joint full of mercs looking to forget for a bit. Guess it was fitting. I try not to look at her, 'cause let me tell you she looks like SHIT. Hasn't ate anything aside from whatever she can pull off of the poor fuckers she takes out, and I don't mean those shitty canned rations. She'll take her beat up old combat knife and- fuck, she skins them. She takes the skin, she takes the muscle- if she's feelin' particularly adventurous she'll take an organ or two.

I could toss my cookies just thinking about it.

I steal another glance, she's downing a bottle of whiskey like a champ. Looks mighty empty if I really think hard on it.

"Eh, Madds..."

I sounded like shit. Hell, I miss the old lug, too. Can't be as much as she did though, saw that fuckface like a stand in for her pops, I guess. Fuckin' ghoul certainly watched her back like one.

"What'ya want?"

I nearly choked on my damn beer when she spoke. God, she sounded worse than I did. Voice was all gravelly and hoarse. She sounded like a dying molerat. Not pretty, if you've never had the pleasure of gettin' an earful.

"You okay?"

I didn't need to ask- but it was nice to just know she was still there. Maybe not all there, but she was hanging in as best she could. I kinda' like to think it's for me, not gonna lie.

"Yeah."

Her reply was simple, but it was enough. Felt like a huge slap to the face, but at least she was still talking. She sounded angry, fuck- she sounded like a kicked puppy. That's the best comparison I could make.

"You sure? Since Charon you've been a little-"

She cut me off. What a bitch. She was gettin' real touchy with the subject. Hell, she still carried around that bloodied up shotgun of his like it was her stone. Maybe it was.

"I said I'm _****__**fine**__**.**_"

I flinched at her tone, but I'd never admit it. Butch DeLoria didn't jump just because someone got a little pissy

* * *

We eventually left the joint, she was shitfaced and I had the duty of dragging the snotty mess back to the shitty room we rented. Fuck, she wasn't a sad drunk. She was a goddamn angry drunk. She thought too much, let it all get to her. Fuckin' dangerous when she drank too much.

When we got to the room I dropped her off. It wasn't much, but it was home for now. Two ratty old mattresses pushed up against the walls, a stand for our things, and a beat up metal table by the door. What a palace. Even had a light. Not like it works, but hey, it's the thought that counts.

I heaved a heavy sigh and dropped my ass in the desk chair, scowled at the metallic croon as it settled under my weight.

"The fuck am I gonna do with you, Madds?"

Didn't expect a reply, and I wasn't too disappointed when I didn't get one.

* * *

By morning we headed out, got all of our shit and hit the road. Didn't have much, I badgered her 'til she'd finally step out into the market to get some proper goddamn food. We couldn't get a lot, spent all of our caps between the bar and that shitty fucking room upstairs, but we had enough to get something. A couple canned goods, a bit of water. It'd tide us over for the time being.

Dunno where she was heading, not a clue, but if it could get her mind off of the ghoul I'd stick through it with her. I may have hated the bitch in the vault, but she was all I had in terms of friends out here. I'd try my damndest to keep it that way.

* * *

I could see her slipping away. Every passing day it got worse. Some days were better than others, but she was forgetting. God dammit, she took death real hard. Her dad's wasn't so fucking bad, but Charon? God for-fucking-bid it was the bodyguard.

I walked in on her the other day, god, we've been out in the Wastes for a good week. I saw her crouched in the middle of the fucking room, almost blew chunks. She was crouched over a raider and she was just- she was eating it. No, she didn't heat the shit up. She fucking tore into them like it'd be her last meal. I had to step out to get some air, even then I spewed my lunch.

* * *

Two weeks, she's so much worse. She actually looked surprised now and again. Like she forgot who I was, sometimes.

* * *

It's been three weeks. Three goddamn weeks. She's lost it, she's totally fucking lost it. She's practically vibrating now, can't stand still.

I asked that bitch in the labs in Rivet City, Li? Doctor Li? Wanted to know what her eating habits would do to her. I really didn't wanna hear what she had to say. It was fucking her over inside and out. She'd get the shakes. Neurological damage, whatever that was. If she'd just dumb it down a bit when she told me I'd understand. I asked one of her uptight little goons, 'parently it meant she'd lose her shit. I didn't doubt it, didn't mean I wanted to believe it.

They were right.

* * *

Three and a half weeks, she was gone with the fucking wind.

We were in Minefield at this point, took shelter in some houses for a tic. Came across some Talon Company mercs, I didn't need to lift a finger. She had those poor fuckers down before you could say shit.

She didn't ask for my help when she dragged 'em in and dumped 'em in the back. Didn't speak to me before she had a fucking hayday on them. I had to stay upstairs, the noise she was stirring up made me feel exposed.

* * *

Four weeks and I had to go.

She jumped me. She fucking JUMPED me. Couldn't even speak, just a bunch of blabbering and laughing. I nearly pissed myself.

Had to push her off, but she was right back up. She wanted to fight. She was like an animal. A feral fucking animal.

"The fuck are you doing!? It's me! It's Butch, you crazy BITCH!"

Didn't look like she understood. She pulled out that fucking knife and she came at me- I didn't have a choice. Had to pull out the toothpick. I flipped out the blade and- oh my god, she cut me. She fucking cut me, and she damn near drooled when she saw the blood.

I had no choice, I had to put her down. She was sick, and she wouldn't be gettin' any better. She came at me again, and I had to fight back. Lodged my knife in her jugular and I'd never seen her look more pleased.

I couldn't let her go, even when she started bleeding out on my jacket. Not when she started clawing at my arms, not even when she gurgled something I couldn't fucking understand. I dropped her when she stopped moving, and I couldn't look away.

I'm never gonna forget it. Her heaving, her watery eyes, the fucking _pain _in her face. She just wanted to forget. She's not gonna have a problem with that now.

I tore my gaze away, hardly noticed the coiling nausea until I finally got back to Rivet City. I got back to that seedy room and I snapped. If it looked like shit then, it looked even worse now. Pretty sure someone tried to see what was up when I started yelling. Nearly threw a fuckin' mattress at them.

Charon was gone, and that fuckface took Madds with him. I was alone, and I had no goddamn clue what to do with myself. Sure, I didn't need them. They were friends, good fucking friends. One died, and I had to send her after him.


End file.
